Trust
by FairyV
Summary: Martel’s death affected them all, in their own way. But had those unusual gems changed them, too? [oneshot]


**A/N:** This is my 2nd one-shot written for the 30hugs community on LJ. Chronologically, it occurs after _Mystery_. 

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Tales of Symphonia_.

Kratos/Yuan hug #15 (sweet dreams)

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**Trust**

The boy all but collapsed into my arms. Recently he'd pushed himself harder and harder, striving for his cause, determined to give his sister's death some meaning.

It is difficult to describe how the dynamic between Mithos, Yuan and myself changed after Martel was killed. I think we each bore our own guilty weight for not being able to protect her at that moment. I wondered, sometimes, whether Mithos, or even Yuan, actually blamed me for what happened. Logically-speaking, it wouldn't have made sense, for I was not responsible for her death, but I was a member of the species they were steadily growing to hate. They spoke of their hopes for a peaceful future, but I feared that incidents such as this could only serve to reduce their acceptance of, and willingness to understand, humans.

And so our journey continued, Mithos's success at each temple our primary goal. I watched as Mithos and Yuan's relationship, competitive at best, deteriorated further. Enveloped in a grief that neither of them could express, nor would they share, their words, suggestions, would rarely be directed towards one another. As such, I became a go-between, of sorts. They clearly found it difficult to address one another, each, perhaps, being a constant reminder of Martel….

It seems strange that I, the human, held our little band together at that time. But, still, I never felt completely comfortable with them, as I'm sure they didn't with me. Every so often I would catch one of them watching me, a strange look on his face, before he met my gaze and turned away.

Mithos insisted on training any day we didn't have to battle. He was certainly becoming highly skilled with a sword, but I think these sessions were more a method of release for him. He fought so ferociously he even pushed me to my limits, and exhausted himself so he wouldn't have to cry himself to sleep so often.

I carried Mithos to the tent Yuan and I had earlier pitched and laid his thin frame on the blankets covering the ground. He muttered something and rolled over. At least one of us is sleeping, I thought, as I considered Yuan, sitting vacantly by the campfire.

As I made to leave the tent I heard Mithos's voice behind me.

"How do you do it, Kratos?"

"Do what?" I asked, turning round. My eyes were readjusting to the darkness within the tent remarkably quickly.

"Deal with your emotions. How to you mask them so effectively all the time?"

I stared back at him blankly. Oh yes, I was good at that. But I was grateful at least that he didn't assume I was void of all emotion, like Yuan clearly did. Although he was probably half-right. Growing up in a loveless, competitive environment had taught me to put emotions aside. I didn't have any need for them, and rarely allowed people to incite them within me.

However, watching this boy try so hard to be a man, trying not to show his true feelings about the loss of his only real family member, I did feel something stir within me. I wouldn't call it pity, even now. Neither was it empathy, for I had suffered no loss equal to his. Some time later I might have recognised it as parental concern, but I don't deserve to be called anyone's father-figure, least of all Mithos's.

But I could see what he was hiding, what he should be feeling.

"Mithos," I began, stepping close to him, "there's no shame in allowing yourself to mourn."

Mithos frowned at me in the darkness. "I mourn, Kratos," he stated. "I remember Martel in everything I do. But there is _so much_ to do and I worry that at the crucial moment I might lose my concentration." He spoke with the passion he felt for his mission. "Is there some sort of meditative trick you can teach me, Kratos? I know you loved her too, but you hide your pain so much better than I do."

His words astounded me. Not just his eagerness to set aside his grief, but the audacity he displayed in presuming to know my feelings. It is true that half-elves are considerably more empathic than humans, but how could he possibly sense in me something I did not feel?

"We can talk about this tomorrow, Mithos." I suddenly felt rather defensive, seeking to draw the focus of the conversation away from myself and reverting to what Yuan would call my _condescending manner_. "You need to take better care of yourself, Mithos. You've been working yourself to exhaustion and you barely touch your meals."

"Do you think I haven't noticed you and Yuan picking at your food, too?" he countered. "I'm not tired now, anyway. In fact, I could go another ten rounds against you."

I believed him. I, too, had experienced surges of energy since we came into possession of these strange charms. I felt strong and alert at times when, by rights, I should have been at my weakest. I wasn't sure yet whether these stones Mithos had been suckered into buying were actually responsible for this, but the idea that they could also cause insomnia and loss of appetite seemed to me more the work of a poison. Superstitious nonsense.

I decided that our conversation was over. I wasn't in the mood for his stubbornness. "Go to sleep, Mithos. We'll have a hard day, tomorrow." I heard him grumble some mild insult behind me as I left the tent.

I walked over to the fire and sat beside Yuan. "He giving you trouble?" he asked with a smirk.

"You heard all that?" I asked, my surprise evident. I noticed that he was toying with something in his left hand.

"Shouldn't I have?" He looked at me briefly. "It seems we all have the same symptoms. Do you think these crystals really are responsible?"

"No, I don't."

Perhaps I was too quick to answer. Yuan's look told me he didn't believe me.

"Well maybe it was something we didn't eat," he suggested, with a pointed look. "I don't understand how they could work, Kratos, but Mithos was told that they would increase our strength and endurance. And for us not to need to eat or sleep, but still reap the benefits…."

Was I the only one who thought this bad?

"I think the stress of this mission is taking its toll on our bodies' routines, that's all," I said levelly.

"You're probably right," Yuan muttered, staring at the object in his hand, which I quickly realised was the charm Martel had worn.

Long moments of silence passed between us, yet neither of us felt ready to sleep.

"Do you miss her, Kratos?"

I looked at Yuan; he hadn't moved. He still stared at the stone in his hand. It wasn't unlike him to ask me something out of the blue like this, but I was relieved that, for once, it wasn't some contrived query into my past. I could think of no reason not to answer this question.

"Of course I do."

Yuan looked a little startled. Maybe he hadn't expected me to answer. Or perhaps he hadn't thought I'd say _yes_.

"What…exactly…do you miss?"

I wasn't sure where he was going with this, but I suspected he had finally reached a stage in his grieving where he believed talking about Martel's life would help him. I didn't feel comfortable bearing my soul to anyone, but I knew this wasn't about me and that it might strengthen our trust in one another if I was, for once, open about my feelings.

"In truth, Yuan, I miss the way she interacted with each of us, and all of us."

He considered my words for a moment.

"In what way?"

I suppressed the urge to sigh. This was going to get tricky. He was asking me to talk about something I had never really given any thought to.

In truth, she'd held us together. But something told me not to say that aloud. Her amiable, disarming nature made her comfortable to be around and I realised suddenly that I'd probably opened up to her a lot more than to Yuan, without being aware of it at the time.

"She would always know what each of us needed at any given time, whether it be food, someone to talk to, or to be left alone…."

Yuan finally turned to face me, but my eyes remained focussed somewhere between my feet and the burning fire.

"…and she always knew the right thing to say…."

Unlike myself and Yuan.

"…and when to say nothing."

The silence stretched on once more, both of us lost in our memories of Martel. I discovered a newfound respect for the dead woman. Underneath her charming, cheerful exterior was a very astute woman. Yuan clearly had a lot to learn about subliminal interrogation. But she'd never failed to be direct when necessary, bringing me up short when my initial training sessions with Mithos had left the boy bruised and bleeding. My choice of tactics had eventually paid off, but I would never forget the cold, stern tone she had adopted whenever she'd had a serious criticism to make.

"She loved you, you know."

I snapped out of my reverie at Yuan's words.

"What do you mean?"

I had no doubts concerning Martel's capacity to care for others, but to love someone like me…. I found the concept unlikely. I had never sought long-term affection and I knew for a fact that most people found my general demeanour to be most disagreeable.

"She valued your friendship, such as it was, and your loyalty, but most of all she valued your brotherly protectiveness of Mithos."

I raised one eyebrow. "She told you this?"

"She didn't have to," Yuan replied.

I wasn't convinced, but I didn't think Yuan could believe he had anything to gain by attempting to flatter me like this.

"I think you were everything she needed you to be – nothing more, nothing less – and she loved you for it."

My expression remained the same, daring him to continue.

"And from what you just told me, it sounds as though she was everything you needed her to be, too," he stated simply.

I figured that was a reasonable conclusion.

"I believe you loved her," he said, almost under his breath.

And there it was. I closed my eyes, drew a deep breath and counted silently to ten. Part of me felt like hitting him. I simply couldn't understand his obsession with my emotions, the last thing I thought this conversation would be about. It wasn't lost on me that his words echoed Mithos's own. What was it with half-elves?

"I know you don't believe me, Kratos," Yuan smiled sadly. "But one day you'll realise it's true. It's also what Martel believed."

I believed they had both greatly overestimated my capacity to love.

I remained silent and Yuan said nothing more, quite wisely so.

I lay down and attempted to rest. It was another long, sleepless night.

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I watched the human feign sleep and knew I had done the right thing. I believed everything I had said to him and I knew that Martel, wherever she was, would have approved. 

The fact that Kratos hadn't tried to end the conversation by force, or with his absence, spoke volumes. It hadn't been my intention to rattle him; merely to give him some food for thought. Sappy as it sounds, we all need to be embraced sometimes, to be reminded in a subtle way what we're fighting for and alongside whom we are fighting. I finally trusted Kratos, as Martel had. I wanted him to know that.

My gaze shifted to the jewel in my hand. I tightened my fist around it and brought it to my lips, closing my eyes.

Sweet dreams, Martel.

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**A/N: ** Please note, most of my Hugs will be posted as separate stories, unless I indicate any multi-parters.  



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